


Breathe

by capalxii



Series: Longer prompt fills [13]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capalxii/pseuds/capalxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt from an anonymous tumblr user: "some hardcore oswink breathplay pls?" There's Oswink breathplay, though I don't know that it qualifies as hardcore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> All the breathplay in here is meant to be more simulated rather than "actually losing control of ability to breathe."

She wasn't really sure, exactly, how or why this kept happening. Not that she minded. She didn't. The things Clara minded were people who were rude to waitstaff, people who drove below the speed limit for no reason. Not people who stepped back and acknowledged that she should be in charge. 

But she wasn't sure why, whenever she met someone, they inevitably asked her for this. The “this” was always different in specific details and levels of “this”-ness, but the same in general, broad concept; whether it was the boys and girls at university, the ones she met at pubs or pottery class or the park while looking after her best friend's kids, or, apparently, maths teachers she met at work, at some point they decided they wanted her to. Well. Take charge. 

Maybe they simply noticed that she liked taking charge, and were all very accommodating. She doubted that, though. She'd dated some right prats before, and they'd still wanted this.

At any rate, it was exactly how she found herself here, tonight, with Danny. Their first time had been downright sweet, with him treating her as gently as a porcelain doll. Clara had almost thought some slow, slightly jazzy nineteen eighties sex-scene-from-a-film soundtrack should've been playing in the background, it was so sweet. The next time, he'd tried that porcelain doll routine again, only to find himself flat on his back and downright abused, in the nicest way possible, by a woman who was by no means porcelain and who knew he wasn't either.

And that had been that, really. “Okay,” he'd said, when he'd been brought back from his out of body sexperience. “That. We should. Do that. More often.”

Clara grinned slyly at him, tracing her finger down his sweat-damp chest. Nice chest, she thought. Big and strong. Firm under her touch, rising and falling deeply as he caught his breath. She wrinkled her nose with glee as he looked at her. “Yeah?” she asked.

Danny bopped the end of her nose with his finger, kissed her, and smiled warmly. “Yes ma'am.”

It had been many, many times since, and Danny's porcelain-doll deal had become Clara's occasional “do as your told, worship me, my pleasure before yours” deal. There were other deals. A lot of them involved her watching his body as he struggled or flexed, all those nice muscles of his rippling under his skin for her. He was strong enough to stop her if he wanted, but also strong enough not to stop her when she wanted something in particular, and strong enough to ask her to do things that maybe weren't really the kinds of things he could have bragged about to his mates back in his soldiering days. She admired him for that, but mostly, mostly, she got a little thrill at the control she had. 

*

Back to tonight. In the bed, knelt comfortably between his legs. One hand stroking his cock, the other on his balls. “If you stop,” she said, “I stop. But I'll restart if you do, Danny, don't worry.”

He nodded. Couldn't exactly speak without breathing, could he. But he nodded, gripped the pillow above his head. He held his breath in that big strong chest he knew she liked—seriously, he spent more time in the gym these days making sure he still looked tough for her, because that look on her face the first time she'd seen him shirtless had been delicious—for as long as he could as she worked his cock over. When he finally let it out, she did exactly what she'd said she'd do. She stopped. Let him go, let him feel the loss of her touch no matter how close he was. She'd kept him on edge like this for what felt like ages, re-slicking him up with lube every now and then when he took another deep breath. 

She wanted him not to breathe, he wouldn't breathe. It felt good, too, whenever he got to that moment where it nearly felt like it was too much; more intense, more insistent, just generally more, and her voice carrying him through made him feel like he was floating through the clouds towards some perfect destination. The breaks in between were too long for him, he wanted her hands on him again, he wanted her voice to reach his ears again and really just wanted to do what she wanted him to do, but he was sucking in air as quickly as his body would allow and each time he took longer and longer to get the oxygen he needed. 

“I'm here,” Clara said—she'd noticed, easily, just like she noticed so much with him, once she'd gotten to know him. It was the one thing he'd needed but hadn't known until he'd met her, someone who could notice those things about him and react. Someone to whom he could give his service, give his strength, and push through limits in a way that he could be proud of the outcome, and someone who'd be there to help when he needed it. Someone who could do all that while being way cuter than anybody else he'd ever known. That he found it in someone who'd seen so many amazing things, and was so amazing herself, yet always wanted to come back to him, still sort of baffled him, but he knew better than to question it. “Want some help?” she asked. “Like we talked about?”

“Like we talked about,” he said between breaths. His hand in the air, telling her he was close.

She nodded, moved to his side, kissed his cheek so he didn't have to stop breathing. One hand next to his cock, the other stroking his cheek. “Ready?”

Danny nodded, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He'd been so close too often, and this could go one of two ways—either his cock would give up entirely at being teased, or he'd only last a few seconds before coming. He could feel the pressure in his groin building up as fast as the pressure in his chest was, and his hand went up for her. He needed her help here, he needed her help to do this right. 

Her hand was over his mouth and nose in an instant, not heavy enough to really block his air flow but just enough to make it a little harder to gasp for it, just enough for his brain to be tricked into thinking he was much more vulnerable than he actually was. His body was fighting for these two things, both seemingly under Clara's control, both in her hands and just as he felt himself about to come or pass out or both, just as he thought his body might give in and try and fight her, her hand was gone from his face and he was breathing hard and coming harder, spilling out onto her fingers and his belly. It was big, nearly too much, a euphoria that bordered on dizzying in its strength. 

His vision actually did go a little dark around the edges, though he wasn't sure it had anything to do with oxygen intake. “Okay,” he gasped. “Uh.”

Clara tried to hide a smirk. “'Okay?' Seemed a bit better than 'okay' to me.”

“I,” Danny said. He looked at her, feeling like he was looking at her through a haze, and grinned. Words tended to flutter away from him when he looked at her. She generally understood him anyway. “Yeah.”

She kissed him, this time on the lips, and if she took his breath away, well, that was fine. He didn't really need it with her, anyway.


End file.
